A Cold Day in Hell
by DragonflyonBreak
Summary: Pitch tries to "reprogram" Jack Frost. It works, for a little while. But then it backfires, because evil acts like this one have a strange tendency to do that kind of thing. The guardians are left scrambling in their efforts to try and fix the damage and they suffer the unimaginable consequences. Horror fic. No slash. Jack and Bunny centric. Some swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** So I had an idea and I genuinely hope that I pulled it off.

Summary: Pitch tries to "reprogram" Jack Frost. It works, for a little while. But then it backfires, because evil acts like this one have a strange tendency to do that kind of thing. The guardians are left scrambling in their efforts to try and fix the damage, and suffer the unimaginable consequences. Horror fic. No slash. Jack and Bunny centric.

 **A Cold Day in Hell**

* * *

New York was cold.

Empty and abandoned in great haste only days previously. Streets and sidewalks that were once crowded with an endless number of people suddenly weren't.

Several feet of snow covered every inch of the ground, without blemish, having never been touched and so completely white in color that the whole scene seemed impossible. Icicles hung from abandoned scaffolding and rooftops, glittering and twinkling with a wicked sort of innocence. It was like something out of a fairy tale.

Icy frost trailed up and down the walls and windows of the buildings, chaotic and beautiful and terrifying because it wasn't just _ice_ – it had movement and life and an undeniable design to it. Like any piece of art, it had been placed there with great care, deliberately, by its artist.

The air was so frigid and the ice was so cold that windows had started to shatter. All over the massive city, towering, abandoned buildings had gaping holes in their sides and nothing but darkness within them. Overhead, dark grey storm clouds lingered ominously. Their ragged edges were like frozen curtains that had fluttered in a nonexistent breeze and snow melted slowly from them now, falling softly towards the frozen city below.

It never stopped. The snow hadn't stopped in weeks. It had slowed down to the point where it seemed as though the snowflakes were simply frozen in the very air, lingering like dust that would never settle… but it was _always_ falling.

And it would continue to do so unless Bunnymund found some way to stop it.

It was a task that bordered on impossible. Stopping the snow meant finding Jack Frost. And Jack Frost was doing a damn good job of staying out of sight.

Bunny knew he was in the city. Knew it because of the sick pool of dread that had taken up residence in his stomach and refused to leave. He could tell by the unnatural way the wind would sharply curve one direction and then moments later slowly revert itself back the way it started. He could tell by the ice that felt alive and seemed determined to trip him at every turn. But mostly, he felt the unseen eyes that watched his every move with cruel intentions and sent shivers up his spine – shivers that had nothing to do with the cold at all.

He had always respected winter. It was never his _favorite_ time of year, but it had its own kind of beauty that he was willing to admire. It wasn't as though the season itself were inherently bad, per say. Just cold. It got old after a while.

It would be safe to say that Bunny didn't really _like_ winter.

But until now, he'd _never_ been afraid of it.

This cold _wanted_ to hurt. It was mean and it was cruel and it didn't care what anyone thought. There was scattered evidence of this horrifying, harsh new reality all over the city; crashed cars and taxi cabs half buried in snow. The destroyed powerlines that stole any and all possible communication and heat that the great city had had – the final push that had forced everyone out. In Central Park, dozens of dead horses still stood frozen on their hooved feet, eerily alert looking, half buried in snow, and still attached to the carriages they'd once pulled. Birds and squirrels were frozen from the inside out in the last position they had held before death came so unexpectedly. They were so animated and appeared so alive that it was disturbing to know that they were dead. There were ducks and swans and other water birds that had frozen to the manmade lakes and died slow, agonizing deaths, their graceful necks flopped over and frozen to the ice that killed them. There were trees that had literally exploded in the cold air, cracked and toppled statues laid scattered around, monuments of famous individuals in the American people's history had been violently skewered with massive spears of ice….

And every so often, there were mounds of snow that sat stranger than others. Bunny didn't investigate these – he didn't want to _see_ … but his acute sense of smell told him that underneath there was a person who hadn't been able to escape quick enough.

This needed to end. Quickly.

For everyone's sake but mostly for Jack's. They had to stop him before he did anything else he would regret. Before he got bored of New York and took his insanity and winter someplace else… before he killed anymore people.

 _Because Jack didn't know. It wasn't_ really _him._

Pitch was the one who was responsible for this. He was the one who had created this terrible disaster and Bunny swore, if it was the last thing he ever did, that he would make sure the smarmy bastard paid for it.

Exactly _how_ this had happened, Bunny didn't know. All he knew – all anyone knew – was that Pitch had taken it upon himself to _reprogram_ the guardian of fun into what he apparently felt that Jack Frost should be. An eager and willing, ready to serve ally at his side.

It must have worked for a little while. There was evidence – patterns that they could follow, random incidences that had occurred and with which he, and others, could trace the steps backwards to the _when_ of this whole mystery.

Their best guess was that it started about eight or nine weeks ago, when an unassuming Jack Frost abruptly found himself in the presence of the boogeyman and from there things spiraled out of control before there was any to be had. Caught off guard, Jack hadn't stood a chance and Pitch had done a _very_ good job of trying to hide what he had done – and whether by coincidence or careful planning, he'd timed it just right too.

No one had noticed.

It would have been perfect. But somewhere along the way… something went wrong. Whatever it was, whatever had happened… it took Pitch's obedient little servant and turned him into something that he wasn't capable of controlling.

Furious, and no longer willing to adhere to whatever Pitch told him to do, Jack Frost took off on his own. And chaos and havoc followed him everywhere he went.

News about a rogue seasonal spread very quickly among members of their kind and it quickly became apparent _which_ seasonal was causing the trouble. Had he not been a guardian, Bunny doubted anyone would have gotten involved as quickly as they had, for the simple fact that no one else cared enough about Jack Frost to try and help. What happened between other immortals was mostly their business and it was not necessarily the guardians job to act as police – Bunny particularly liked to stay out of anyone's personal affairs if he could. But there were undeniably times when their interference was needed or even requested and a pissed off Jack Frost, guardian or not, happened to be one of them. This time though, Bunny could say that they got involved not because Jack was a guardian and a teammate… but because he was their friend and whatever happened to him automatically became their business too.

It sufficed him to say that they were not happy upon finding out what had happened to him.

Though not himself, Jack Frost had shown all of them just how incredibly intelligent and dangerous he was while he skillfully managed to evade each and every one of their attempts to catch him and reverse what had been done. Bunny and his fellow guardians had made numerous efforts to retrieve their friend over the course of three weeks and no one had even come close to laying a hand on him– they'd only managed to succeed in getting themselves hurt in the process. And each of their well-meaning attempts resulted in Jack Frost getting a little angrier than he already was, a little more dangerous and much, much crueler. Their last desperate effort had been his breaking point – thoroughly pissed off, Jack Frost had finally had enough and snapped.

And never let it be said that an angry Jack only did things half-effort.

Thanks to the Nightmare King's meddling, Jack Frost was now in possession of a brand new definition of what the word _fun_ meant and in his warped mindset, he had decided that the best way to get everyone to leave him alone was to make his position in power abundantly clear and show them all what he could – _and would_ – do.

And that led them to now.

No one had seen the elusive winter spirit for several days. He'd holed himself up in this city and released all of his chaotic power on it without an ounce of mercy. It was frightening, what Pitch had turned him into. And it was frightening to know exactly what Jack was capable of doing. Unable to stop him _(and they tried, oh gods did they try)_ , they were forced to leave him alone while he did his best to turn Manhattan Island into a new arctic desert and they were afraid that if they came at him again too soon, he'd just move someplace else and start over.

It was inevitable that he would. Even in his right mind, Jack never stayed in one place for too long. He was always on the move, flitting from place to place with no apparent destination in mind. And perhaps that was why they couldn't catch him. There was never any element of surprise – being at the mercy of his whims, they could never actually _plan_ , they could only hope they'd get lucky and _go_. But attacking Jack Frost head on didn't work – it never had – he was too quick and too powerful for that kind of approach to work.

They needed a distraction.

And so Bunny volunteered.

With New York now devoid of life, their best chance of avoiding any more deaths was to catch Jack Frost while he was still in the city. And it was fortunate, Bunny had _thought_ , that he'd shown no signs of leaving anytime soon. But neither did he seem to have any interest in making an appearance. Bunny had traipsed up and down the frozen streets of New York for hours without ever even catching a glimpse of him, despite _knowing_ with a sure certainty that he wasn't very far away.

It was eerie. Because most of the time, Jack basked in attention. When they were all together, the winter spirit actively instigated conversation and interaction – though he often used it kind of like a shield, to hide his more personal feelings. He was very good at deflection and rarely did he allow there to be a moment of silence that allowed anyone to actually question it until long after the fact. But at his center, Jack was playful and kind hearted as were the games that he enjoyed so much.

And knowing _that_ made this whole damn situation so much worse. Because in his right mind, Jack would _never_ have done anything like this and the emotional aftermath that he would suffer should they succeed in rescuing him was almost too much to endure thinking about. Very little of the Jack Frost that Bunny knew remained recognizable – his personality quirks had been twisted and manipulated into something ugly and mean. It was _wrong_ and it was _sad_ , and if one actually managed to get close enough to him, then they could _feel_ it too.

Bunny had come here with a purpose, determined to save his friend from any more pain, with and by whatever means that he could. He hadn't come here completely unprepared either - there was a plan, weak though it might be, but a plan nonetheless. That knowledge in and of itself should have been at least somewhat comforting.

But it wasn't. While Jack Frost was the one technically being hunted, this frozen hellhole was his territory now and he was the one making all the rules. Bunny had expected this whole thing to happen quickly – he'd thought the corrupted seasonal would make his presence known right off the bat and attack him with a fury that was not easily dealt with but _he hadn't_. It raised his fur to know that for whatever reason, Jack Frost was letting him be here; and the lack of familiarity was another eerie reminder that he wasn't fighting someone that he knew…. The whole situation gave him the distinct feeling of being toyed with, like he was going to be the brunt of a very cruel joke.

It wasn't even a matter of _if_ , it was simply a matter of _when_ and that knowledge, coupled with a genuine sense of fear, left him with an unshakeable feeling of dread, rooted deep in the pit of his stomach.

Bunny hoped it was just the empty city, which had become its own incredible liminal space; something so massive and once so full of lights and sounds and _life_ should never be reduced to something so quiet and dead. Liminal spaces were supposed to be eerie. But maybe it was gut instinct warning him of the impending danger. Or perhaps it was both. Whatever the source of the feeling – and he hoped beyond measure that it wasn't a fear of Jack himself – it hadn't eased up for even a second since he'd arrived. Instead, it was steadily getting worse and he was left to deal with the constant urge to look over his shoulder. Or to just run and never look back.

It was not a feeling that Bunny was accustomed to having and he didn't appreciate it in the slightest.

Sheer determination and his own natural stubborn attitude made it easy to ignore almost entirely and continue with his self-imposed assignment. Though at this point, after hours of completely pointless searching, he was about ready to call it quits before he turned into an icicle, recuperate, and simply come back in a few hours to start again.

But even as he lifted his foot to open a tunnel, he hesitated to leave. The itch to find his fellow guardian was powerful and he sighed, resigning himself to stay just a little bit longer.

"Come on, Frost." Bunny muttered to himself, tensing as a gust of cold air hit him. Tiny flecks of ice clung to his fur and he viciously shook it all off again. "Where the _hell_ are you….?"

Nothing. He glanced upwards, looking out of habit to see what street he was on now only to be met with a familiar frustration. He couldn't read it. The ice encasing the sign was too thick and the letters were blurry beyond recognition. And of course, he left no visible tracks in the snow – another unsettling aspect about this damn city. He had discovered not long after his initial arrival that any track or impression he made in the snow immediately filled up the moment he removed his weight. It felt as if he wasn't allowed to know where he'd been.

With a scowl, Bunny sat back on his haunches for a few moments, listening as carefully as he could and surveying all that was around him with a complete lack of hope.

Nothing. Nothing but a dead park, the grey sky and the wretched snow covered streets and the empty, empty buildings. Everything in this unfamiliar city looked the same to him covered in ice and snow and _he could not find Jack._

Jack, who had proved himself over and over again to all of them that he was someone they could count on – who cared so deeply, who felt so much more than he ever let on… who forgave them for their mistakes and past treatment of him and extended a warm hand of friendship in return. Jack, who had needed them – _who had needed him_ – and they weren't there to help. Jack, whose mind was stolen from him somehow and who was now being forced to dance like a puppet on a string for a master who was never going to let him go.

Oh god. Bunny had desperately tried not to think about it… and with their almost constant efforts to catch the winter spirit, he hadn't really had to… but this was a genuine race against time. He couldn't go back now. Because if they didn't get the kid first, Pitch _would_ find a way to get him under control again. Where he'd skulked off too, Bunny didn't know. But there had no doubt that he would come back. After all the effort Pitch had undoubtedly put into this nefarious plot… there was just no way in hell the slimy rat was going to let Jack walk away.

 _Damn that evil son of a bitch to hell._ He thought furiously, curling his paws into tight fists at his sides.

He'd rather see Jack dead by his own hand then under the nightmare king's influence for the rest of his tenure as an immortal.

Pitch was not going to win. Not ever. Not if Bunny had _anything_ to say about it.

"Jack!" Bunny shouted fiercely, listening as his voice bounced and echoed off the buildings. A few windows shattered, the soft tinkling of falling glass the only audible sound there was before everything became suspensefully quiet once again. "Jaaa _a_ ck!" He shouted again, louder this time. "Get out here, Frost, I wanna talk to you!"

The whole city seemed to hold its breath, waiting for _it_ to happen…

"JACK!"

"Yes?"

Bunny's heart immediately jumped into his throat because he hadn't expected anything to happen. This wasn't the first time he'd audibly shouted for Jack's attention today… but it was the first time anyone had bothered to answer.

"I thought I heard someone calling my name."

And in the end, it didn't really matter how long he'd trudged up and down the streets of Jack's frozen hell. He didn't find the kid.

Instead, Jack came to him.

Reacting purely on instinct, Bunny spun around and as he did so, he pulled a boomerang out of its sheath on his back and held it high above his head in warning.

And there he was.

Jack Frost was crouched on the back part of a bench covered in several few feet of snow, not eight feet away from him. His staff was balanced easily across his knees. How the winter spirit managed to sneak up on him, to get so close without him even realizing was a mystery that Bunny couldn't quickly put together.

He'd sensed _nothing._ He'd felt _nothing._ Jack Frost was just… there.

There existed a moment of tense silence between them as they both just stared at each other, sizing one another up.

The difference in Jack's appearance was nearly as startling as the sense of wrongness that surrounded him. Somewhere over the past few days, he'd traded his usual clothes for a crisp looking white dress shirt and an extremely tailored black suit jacket and pants. He was still barefoot and the top few buttons of his shirt were left undone so Bunny could see into his chest. For the briefest of moments, Bunny was surprised at how many _visible_ scars the kid had… and wondered who or what could have caused them. But the more recent, ugly purple bruises that decorated the winter spirits chest quickly brought him back to the present matter at hand.

Jack Frost tilted his head to the side, watching him curiously. Because of their close proximity, Bunny could easily see the tiny tendrils of black just barely visible in the blue irises of his eyes... the only visible evidence they had of what Pitch had done to him.

Bunny lowered his arm somewhat. "Hello Jack." He greeted warily.

Sharp, callous eyes met his own. "You came alone." Jack stated, looking mildly puzzled by the idea. But his lips then twitched into a cruel, unfamiliar smirk. "That wasn't very smart, Bunn- _y_ mund." He chided, tsk-ing softly. "Not smart at _all_."

"I'm not here to fight with you-"

"Oh please." Jack interrupted smoothly. "Don't bother giving me that shit. You wouldn't have decided to stay in my beautiful city for so long unless you wanted to do something _exciting_. And what else could you be here for rabbit, if not to have a go at me?" Jack gave a light chuckle though his eyes bored straight into his with an unwavering intensity. They sparkled with pure malevolence as he silently dared him to argue.

It was fortunate, Bunny thought, that he had never been one to let himself be bullied – and certainly not by Jack Frost – otherwise it might have been easy to let the winter spirit determine what would happen. But regardless of the changes in his personality, Bunny knew he needed to be in control.

"I was actually just hoping we could talk, mate. Just me and you." Bunny replied stiffly. "No tricks. No lies. Just a nice, friendly conversation."

" _Bullshit._ " Jack insisted, his voice never rising above a conversational tone. That somehow made it all the more menacing. "I am not some mindless idiot and you are not a very good liar. No one _ever_ just wants to have a conversation with _me_."

Bunny didn't bother to reply. Rather, to emphasis his sincerity, he tossed both of his boomerangs lightly at the foot of Jack's snowy mound – _fat lot of good they would have done anyway_ – and lowered his arms to his side.

He was exposed. Weaponless in front of an enemy who would stab him in the back with a smile on his face.

Jack raised a dark eyebrow, seeming to ponder the idea as his cruel blue eyes stared unflinchingly into his own. After a small eternity of thought, Jack gave a short sigh and then his lips slowly spread into a sly smile. "Alright. I'll play your game." He agreed flippantly. His fingers tapped rapidly against his staff as he thought before stilling them just as quickly. "But let's make this interesting, shall we? I haven't had anyone to play with for… _waaay_ too long." Jack laughed and gave him a quick, fleeting glance over. "The New Yorker's weren't up to it, that's for sure. They really liked to brag about how tough they were but turns out that was just all talk, you know? I hate that. They were complete pussies when it came to experiencing real cold. I was a little disappointed, to be honest. But they were still somewhat amusing…. I _did_ like watching them freeze. I made sure it was slow… I wanted them to feel their bodies shutting down long before they actually died. I wanted them to physically have to watch their bodies turn into blocks of ice, for each breath they took to feel as though they were inhaling razor blades deep into their lungs… I wanted them to suffer and feel every agonizing moment -"

"Are you done?" Bunny interrupted him, appearing completely bored. Inwardly he was seething. "Either shut up about that and get on with it or –"

"Or what? You'll leave me alone? We won't get to tal _k_?" Jack Frost only gave him a knowing grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Come on Fluffy… threats should at least make sense." A mean, cunning intelligence danced behind his eyes and the feeling of being toyed with returned full force as Bunny sighed heavily, unable to argue.

A few tense seconds went by before Jack huffed in amusement. "I guess you'll do. You want to have a " _friendly"_ conversation with me… fine. You can ask me any five questions you'd like."

Bunny breathed deeply, mentally reigning himself in as much as he could. Jack wanted him to be angry. The little brat was deliberately trying to provoke him and the simple fact was that he couldn't let that happen. Arguing would be pointless because this wasn't Jack – this was a mean, corrupted version of him that took pleasure in being the cause of someone else's pain. There were no boundaries that this Jack Frost was not willing to cross. Nothing was sacred to him – he didn't care about anything except his own amusement. And that was what Bunny was going to try and exploit. An argument would be too boring and the kid would be a lot less likely to tolerate him… but if it was interesting enough, possibly even a game between them… _maybe_ this would work.

"Only five?" Bunny finally asked, crossing his arms as another strong gust of freezing wind ran viciously through the street.

"Mmhm. If you're lucky, I might even answer them." Jack said casually. His fingers moved blindingly fast, spinning his staff sideways and standing it up straight with the bottom end stuck deep in the snow immediately beside him. Breaking eye contact, he reached down and picked up the boomerangs in the snow below him. He eyed them with open curiosity, turning them over and over in his hands. "But try to pick questions that will… really spike my interest. You know, something worthy of my time… something exciting. And," He paused, pursing his lips for a moment. "For every question you ask me I get to ask one too."

"F-fair enough." Bunny shivered, stamping his feet slightly and shaking snow off his fur again. "But what if you don't like what I ask you?

Jack shrugged very nonchalantly. "Then our conversation will be short."

 _Damn you. And damn the cold!_ Bunny thought privately. It was easily below -40 degrees out, not counting the wind, and Jack Frost could have been sunning himself on a beach with how smugly comfortable he looked.

If he survived this encounter, Bunny would have to thank North again later… no doubt that he'd have frozen long before now if it weren't for the Christmas Guardians help in being able to endure the brutal weather.

"Alright then, mate." He agreed. _Time to find out what you know._ "Do you remember anything about being a guardian?"

It was at least twenty seconds before he got a reply. "I seem to recall your attempts to ah… recruit me," Jack Frost said airily, waving a hand. "Perhaps a meeting here and there after the fact…."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Take it however you want. I prefer my drinks cold, personally."

Bunny raised an eye ridge and decided to roll with it. "Most people do."

"True," Jack conceded, dipping his head a little. "Although… no one understands what _cold_ really is quite like I do. Most people only think they like the cold until they realize just how much it likes to bite them in the ass." He sniggered, shaking his head in amusement.

Bunny felt his ears droop a little. "What happened to you, Jack?"

The winter spirit raised an eyebrow. "Not so fast. It's my turn to ask a question, remember?"

"Right. Of course."

"Ooooh… what to ask, what to ask?" Jack breathed to himself, sliding back on his butt and extending his legs out in front of him. "Oh I know. I watched you circle this city a number of times today… what do you think of it now? I'm dying to get someone else's opinion."

Bunny narrowed his eyes. "Can't say I'm a huge fan." He said bluntly. "The lack of life is… upsetting, to say the least."

"Mm. I guess _you_ would say that. Personally, I find it rather poetic, to know that everything here has been frozen in time by _me_ … someone that time usually moves around and ignores. But now everything here will stay the same and I get to move on. But still. To each their own, I suppose." Jack acknowledged slowly. A moment later his lips twitched into a smile once again. "I can't help but wonder what this will mean for all that global warming shit…. Those stupid humans never took _me_ in to account. But I guess they'll just have to find something else to complain about now." He said, mostly to himself. "Your turn."

"I already asked my second question."

"Oh right… such a vague question," Jack eventually replied, placing the boomerangs on the snowy mound immediately beside him. His tainted eyes found Bunny's once again. Pale fingers came together under Jack's chin as he thought. "What happened to me… well. There was this one time in Chicago – 1893, during the World's Fair, just so you know – I was there looking for some entertainment to help pass the time and you wouldn't believe the shit that was happening. Oh! There were murders, Mr. Hope. So many murders. I wish I could have seen them happen in person…."(1)

"Watch it Frost." Bunny warned, making a mental note to be more specific. "I meant why did you change? You weren't like this before."

Jack grinned wickedly at him, humming. "What a shame. That was a rather exciting story." He said lightly, running a hand through his windblown hair. "As for my change in behavior? Let's just say life is a bit more fun this way."

"I find that a little hard to believe." He said dryly. "No one just changes like you did. And the Jack Frost I know would never call _this_ fun."

The winter spirit frowned and Bunny sensed a quick change in atmosphere. "Well I _do_ think it's fun, and you can toss that idea that I'm not me out the window." Jack replied sharply, surprising Bunny with how defensive and annoyed he sounded. _Interesting._ "But I'm not surprised that _you_ don't understand. I've known you for almost three hundred years and you've always been a stick in the mud. No sense of humor whatsoever." He finished, deliberately flippant.

Bunny scowled at him. "Funny."

"Almost as funny as your attempts to catch me… in hindsight they're really _are_ quite amusing. That last one especially…. Mmm. Tell me, how is the old man of the North doing? I didn't get to see what happened."

Bunny's whole body stiffened at the painful reminder of their last failure. "Fine, no thanks to you." He replied tightly. Jack waited, gesturing sarcastically for him to continue. "The sleigh is completely destroyed. Three of the reindeer are dead… and on top of that you managed to break North's leg... but he'll get better."

"Well, I'm very glad to hear that." Jack snipped vindictively and it didn't take a genius to tell that he wasn't talking about North's recovery.

"Yeah, I bet you are."

Jack Frost just shrugged, his tainted eyes dancing with malicious amusement. "All is fair in love and war, or so they say. Besides, you should be grateful he's not dead… it looked like it was an awfully long fall."

"Not far enough." Bunny snapped at him. "It'll take a lot more than _you_ to get rid of North."

Jack only chuckled. "I'll cross my fingers for better luck next time then." He promised.

Callous words. Bunny wished he was surprised to hear them. But the simple truth was that Jack Frost wanted to hurt him – whatever feelings of comradery and friendship that they'd managed to forge between them over the past few years simply wasn't there anymore. It was gone, like it had never existed in the first place except that it _had_ and they both knew it. Bunny didn't understand how that was possible – or how Jack could regard everything he used to care about with complete detachment. Everything was a game to him. Everything... except for Pitch. Perhaps he was wrong earlier when he thought that Jack held nothing sacred to him. Pitch was the center of everything, even now after Jack had taken off on his own and was angry at the creep. There had to still be something there. It wasn't an idea that Bunny thought he'd ever get used to but it was one he was willing to exploit.

To hell with coaxing information out of the kid, Bunny decided. If Jack Frost wanted to be smug little bastard, then he was going to hit the brat right where it hurt and _make_ him talk.

"Does Pitch share your particular sense of humor?" He asked innocently.

The reaction he'd expected to get was instantaneous. Jack's whole body stiffened, any and all mirth vanishing immediately from his face. His cold, venomous eyes hardened and his jaw clenched tightly. A variety of emotions flashed across Jack's face – a strange mixture of adoration, betrayal, excitement, and hurt – before he quickly settled on a cool sort of rage.

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Why not? It's a simple enough question." Bunny drawled as smugly as he could.

"Because I said _so_." Jack murmured very softly, eyes darkening with an intense anger.

"You're angry at him." He said simply, watching as Jack's hand tightened into a fist. "I thought you two were friends… in fact, I thought that you only did what he _told_ you to do. Where's your loyalty, then? Or _maybe_ he didn't want you… although I just can't fathom why Pitch would ever want to get rid of his favorite _dog_." Bunny pressed ruthlessly, poking what he knew was going to be a sore spot in an effort to get a more useful response. He was not disappointed and flinched, taking a few steps backwards when the wind raged furiously at him.

Jack tsk-ed angrily, standing up in one perfectly fluid motion. "You bastard!" He practically snarled at him, ripping his staff from out of the snow. "He didn't send me away, you stupid buck. _I_ left because I was angry at _him_."

"Oh yeah, how come?"

"Because he _hurt_ me!" Jack snapped furiously, stalking towards him. He vibrated with barely suppressed power. "Pitch – he was – _is_ – my friend! But I trusted him and he hurt me!"

 _Now they were getting somewhere._ "What did he do to you?"

"That's none of your damn business!"

"It sure as hell is my business when the result is you massacring innocent people!" Bunny said heatedly. "Pitch _changed_ you! He's not your friend – he's using you, manipulating you and you can't even see it!"

"You son of a bitch, y-you don't _know_ him like I do – you can't possibly… he would never – you just –" Jack broke off, cussing and unable to find the words he wanted in his indignation on Pitch's behalf.

Bunny had less than two seconds warning before a powerful force slammed instantly into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him tumbling head over heels backwards. Adrenaline instantly pumped through his system and ensured that he recovered quickly, although he knew that he would be sore and aching for days afterwards. He sprang to his feet, alert and holding a defensive stance.

The wind whipped around Jack's lithe frame, his black coat billowing out around him, and the dark corrupted glow of his staff illuminating his black expression. His shoulders were squared and he held his head high, appearing every bit the powerful guardian that he was supposed to be.

Jack's tainted eyes glared at him murderously and he slowly, deliberately pointed the crook of his staff at his face. "You are not welcome here." He warned softly.

"Can't answer a simple question?" Bunny panted, shaking snow from his fur. "Pitch did something to you two months ago – " He ducked and shot sideways to avoid the sleek, lethal spikes of ice that Jack threw at him. Some of them landed harmlessly in the snow but others imbedded themselves in the stone wall of a building across the street. "You _know_ he did!' He continued ruthlessly. "You said you remember but why don't you care! He hurt you then – why would you care if he hurt you now?"

 _And_ how _did the bastard do it?_ Bunny thought furiously, ready to bolt at any moment. _What was different this time? What could he have possibly done after already having you in his grasp to make you feel so… feel… so… angry._ Bunny felt his eyes widen and something clicked in his mind. _Feelings. Emotions._

He knew that Jack wasn't being possessed in any traditional sense and forced to do any of this unwillingly and his memories were in tact… it was his emotions that were wrong. It had to be. What he felt and what he thought was funny or important was all skewed. Maybe Jack was dispassionate about the original attack because he _couldn't_ feel anything about it. Pitch wouldn't let him... and if he was controlling Jack's thoughts and emotions then he could create feelings of loyalty and love and basically _erase_ others.

Jack followed him sharply with his eyes. "This time was different." He said coldly.

 _Of course it was. Because this time, you felt something for him… you_ adored _him, would have done anything he wanted even… and it wasn't enough somehow. He hurt you and it felt like a betrayal._ Bunny realized, knowing deep down and with absolute certainty that he right about all of this. He didn't know how it was possible but this _was_ the answer. _You attacked him and that lousy bastard lost control of what he was doing… and he hasn't figured out how to fix it yet._

"But I have one last question for you." Jack said with soft deadliness. Bunny tensed, shifting his weight from foot to foot and subtly tapping one of them twice against the ground. "Before we wrap all this up… can you outrun winter?"

Light and ice exploded from Jack's staff just as Bunny twisted and _ran_ , passing buildings and dodging obstacles that were in his path as he raced for the corner, sensing more than hearing or seeing the winter spirit chasing after him…

 _I can make it._ He thought furiously, legs pumping beneath him. _I_ am _faster than you and I just need to keep your attention on me until –_

Thick snow turned to slick ice under his feet just as he reached the corner of the street and he slipped, missing the turn he'd intended to take and sliding around wildly. Bunny gasped as about a dozen spears of ice imbedded themselves in the ice around him, slicing through it as easily as a knife cutting butter and he heard more than felt the sound of tearing skin and flesh. He looked down to see that a thick, foot long piece of ice had found its way into his arm. It was through and through, just barely missing the bone. Bunny groaned and immediately tore it out again, tossing the bloody icicle to the side as he tried desperately to find his footing. Blood flowed quickly from the wound, staining his fur and leaving red streaks in the ice and snow around him.

Jack Frost laughed cruelly, the sound echoing around him and Bunny looked up to see the winter spirit on top of the nearest light post, staring down at him in amusement. He waved his staff and the wind gleefully started pushing him farther and farther down the street, faster and faster, past blurry buildings, over the hoods of buried cars, and through the branches of trees until he finally slammed into the stone basin of a large fountain, the force of it rattling his entire body.

For several long moments, Bunny couldn't even breath. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and his ears were ringing painfully. It took a few seconds for his body to start to recover from the shock and as it did, he greedily sucked in air. Finally he groaned, clutching his injured arm close to his chest protectively. Everything _hurt,_ a sharp aching, throbbing pain shooting through his entire bodylike nothing he'd ever felt before. Glancing downwards at his arm though, it was both to his relief and concern that it was no longer bleeding – ironically, the frigid temperatures had quickly frozen his blood over the open wounds, preventing him from bleeding out. (2)

But that wouldn't matter unless his backup was able to find him and help him end this nightmare... and he wasn't going to be running anywhere soon to find him.

"… _master of Taiichi, nerves of steel,"_ Jack was saying sarcastically. Bunny blinked sluggishly and saw his blurry figure striding confidently towards him. The snow was falling faster now and the grey sky above got darker with every passing second. The wind whistled eerily, whipping at his fur in preparation for nothing less than a blizzard. "You know, with such _wonderful_ titles, I'd have thought you'd present more of a challenge for me. But this is easy," He sneered, coming into sharper focus. "And you're _pathetic_."

The blue irises of Jack's eyes glowed powerfully, presumably because of the storm he had brewing. It made the corrupted streaks of black more noticeable than ever, illuminating his face and the dark expression that he wore. It made him look gaunt and terrifying, like his eyes were sunken into his face. Watching the winter spirit warily, he slowly leveraged his good arm against the fountain behind him and pulled himself to his feet, finding purchase at last and breathing heavily.

"I would have made it," Bunny wheezed at him, feeling his sides burning. "If you hadn't tripped me with the ice."

"Wow. And here I thought rabbit's feet were supposed to be lucky," Jack continued lowly and without breaking stride, shot a brilliantly bright bolt of ice at him, making his heart skip a few beats and forcing him to duck in order to try and avoid it. To his relief, it slammed into something a ways behind him, the sound of it like an exploding cannon to his sensitive ears, bouncing loudly off the streets and buildings... anyone within miles of them would have been able to hear it... and he was willing to bet that anyone with an aerial view of the city would have _seen_ it too. "But yours sure didn't get _you_ very far."

Despite himself, Bunny couldn't help but smile just a little bit as he glanced upwards at the dark grey sky, searching for any hint of golden light amidst the rapidly falling snow. He wasn't disappointed.

"Far enough," He breathed, eyes flicking quickly back to Jack Frost, standing not eight feet away. Bunny wasn't entirely sure the winter spirit had heard him or not – regardless, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he stood perfectly still, patiently watching to see what move Bunny was going to make next. His white hair and black coat were blowing wildly in the chaotic, screaming wind and his expression was detached, cool, and calculating. Bunny couldn't recall a time that he'd seen the kid look more focused or in control.

"Come on, Jack." Bunny said calmly, spreading his arms wide and watching as the corner of Jack's mouth twitched into an almost smile. He hated the suspense of being at Jack's mercy, of sensing death so close and doing nothing to prevent it from coming… but it kept all of Jack's attention on him, which had been the plan from the very beginning. And because of that, he didn't see who Bunny could see coming up behind him.

"So this is how hope dies," Jack finally whispered softly, eyes alight with cruel satisfaction. "With open arms. It _is_ the worst of all evils in this world, you know." He leveled his glowing, thrumming, powerful staff directly at Bunny's rapidly pounding heart. "Because _hope_ prolongs every mans _… torment_ …."

Jack trailed off, tensing tighter than a bowstring. Bunny swallowed as Jack's brow furrowed in concentration, his corrupted eyes staring intently into his own before they slowly widened, flickering to either side of him and noticing for the first time the golden light that was now softly illuminating the snow around him, far brighter than the unnatural glow of his own staff.

Understanding flashed across his youthful face and he cussed, twisting to angrily confront the newcomer, only to instantly stop short upon seeing that it was none other than the Sandman.

He met Sandy's eyes for a split second, nodding once gratefully, and then decided to take advantage of the distraction. He quickly took a few steps forward, unnoticed, towards Jack and away from the fountain, glad to no longer have it directly behind him.

Keeping his eyes on Sandy, Jack slowly took several long steps backwards until he could see both guardians on either side of him. Glancing between them for a few tense seconds, Jack finally switched his staff into his opposite hand and pointed it steadily at Sandy while extending his other hand at Bunny, warning him away.

 _You_ are _afraid of him._ Bunny thought to himself, slightly amazed at Jack's new hesitation even after he decided Sandy was the immediate threat to him. The older guardian paused in his silent advancement, narrowing his eyes at the winter spirit and crossing his arms with an unimpressed scowl.

Jack clenched his jaw and for the first time, Bunny saw unease flicker in his eyes as he regarded both of them cautiously, shifting from foot to foot as though he wasn't quite sure what to do now.

"Hope _is_ a bitch sometimes." He finally agreed, breaking the uneasy silence. "But it sure as hell doesn't die easy."

Jack kept his attention on Sandy even as his whole body stiffened in response and Bunny sprang to the side just as spears of ice instantly shot out of the snow from underneath him, some just barely brushing against his fur as he dodged between them, sleek and impossibly sharp and meant to kill, while at the same moment a massive explosion of ice and power erupted from Jack's staff in a blinding flash of light towards Sandy.

Bunny lunged, tackling the distracted winter spirit to the ground and reaching desperately for his staff. Jack snarled, twisting madly against him in the snow, striking him wherever he could land a hit. Ice bit viciously into his sensitive skin wherever the kid landed a blow and Bunny cried out in pain when Jack's fist slammed painfully against the hole in his arm. His vision blurred wildly with the pain and he cursed angrily, feeling Jack slip away from him. Instantly rolling to his feet, he wasted no time and lunged at him again, reaching blindly for Jack's staff just as one of Sandy's whips appeared out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around the winter spirit's waist, yanking him backwards just at Bunny's fist closed around the rod, successfully ripping it from his grasp.

Sandy moved quickly, throwing Jack brutally against the side of a brick building across the street and Bunny heard more than saw the whistling in the air as the older guardian swung Jack around again, viciously slamming him back down against the street. White snow erupted in the air where he landed, a powdery haze.

Jack barely had time to groan before Sandy jerked him up again, flinging him at least twenty-five feet in the air and then wrenching him back down once… twice... three times, each with enough force to crack the icy pavement beneath him.

Throwing Jack's staff aside, Bunny raced over, dropping into the crater to hold the winter spirit down before he was able to regain his senses. Sandy's attack – even that wasn't enough to knock the kid out – his tainted blue eyes were open but he was dazed enough that he didn't seem to register the pressure that Bunny put on his shoulders to keep him down. His left arm buckled slightly under the strain and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain for a moment and then pressed down again.

Gold assaulted his vision as Sandy moved quickly to hover directly in front of Jack, sand slipping out from between his fingers and gathering around his small but intimidating form. It seemed to chase the darkness away, offering a warm hopeful light in the midst of so much horror and sadness.

"It's _not_ his memory," Bunny breathed quickly. "It's – it's all there. He remembers but… it's got to be in his emotions somehow… Pitch must be manipulating them – changed his entire personality… something in his head…."

Sandy gave a short nod, eyes burning furiously with a hatred Bunny never thought he was capable of. The usually serene, long-suffering dream giver was nowhere to be found and in his place was an ancient, fully-fledged, and wonderfully powerful guardian.

Jack coughed and tried to shift underneath him just as Sandy placed his hands firmly on either side of his head.

His eyes widened immediately as Sandy did so, clarity returning almost instantly. "No!" He shouted, twisting in a desperate attempt to roll over and get away only to belatedly realize that Bunny was holding him down. Jack snarled furiously, muscles straining to throw Bunny off of him but without any success. "Don't – stay out of my head you bastards! I swear, I'll kill you-"

He broke off with a choked scream as Sandy began his attempt to purge the winter spirit of Pitch's black magic, gold sand forcing its way into his eyes and ears and even through his nose. Jack bucked horribly, twisting and screaming and clawing at Bunny's arms in a sudden desperate, blind attempt to make it all _stop_.

But Bunny refused to budge and Sandy never hesitated.

It felt like an eternity although in reality it was perhaps only a minute or two before Sandy stopped his ruthless attack just as quickly as he'd started it, drifting backwards just a few inches. Jack was left shuddering violently, beads of sweat sliding down his angry face. The kid's corrupted aura was still present and Bunny didn't think he'd ever seen a more livid and malevolent expression on anyone's face in that moment. If hate could have a physical form, Bunny thought, it would have looked exactly like Jack Frost.

" _J-jackasses_ …. It d…didn't work…" Jack managed to gasp at them, tainted eyes both furious and gloating. "I'm… still _me._ "

"What now, Sandy?" Bunny asked quickly.

The sandman didn't seem concerned, he noted with some relief. In fact he just glared down at Jack, refusing to break eye contact with him. After a moment Sandy signed something with his hands that Bunny was barely able to follow – but he got the main gist of it.

 _Now it comes out._

The sandman's tiny hands slowly curled into tight fists at his side and Jack Frost paled in response. His face scrunched in discomfort, the painful expression steadily becoming more and more apparent until he finally wailed in agony, hands flying to hold his head.

One by one, each tiny glowing grain of sand started forcing its way out of Jack's body – poking through his skin all over his body like ants coming from the ground – from his hands, feet, face and arms - tiny drops of blood marking their point of exit. But mostly the sand escaped through his eyes, coming out in golden clumps that fell on the snow all around the winter spirit's body.

Bunny's stomach churned, repulsed when a black inky liquid began to bleed out from Jack's eyes and nose as well, mixing into a horrifying juxtaposition of colors that slid down his face like demented tears.

It _reeked_ – of rot and decay and garlic. And Jack screamed, howling in pain like a child being burned alive.

The black ink was thick, sliding quickly off his face without leaving any traces of it behind and staining the front of his white shirt. It was foul to look at – Bunny could sense its harmful and powerful nature and he doubted anything would ever be able to remove it completely.

With the ink's appearance, Jack began to heave – his whole body jerking and twitching as though he were having some kind of a seizure and it would have been concerning except Sandy gave him a grim but reassuring smile. At the same time, the winter spirit's hands suddenly rooted themselves in the fur of Bunny's arms, clenching them like a lifeline.

"Stop…" He choked out weakly. "It hurts… please stop, it _hurts_ …." Jack begged. His voice was softer and kinder, and suddenly lacking the cruel hatred that they'd all come to dread.

Bunny's eyes flew to Sandy's and the older guardian paused his assault for the first time, staring down at the younger guardian with a scrutinizing expression on his face. To Bunny's relief, the violent jerking mostly stopped when Sandy did and Jack simply laid in the snow, exhausted and trembling.

"Frost?" He ventured carefully, watching as Jack swallowed and coughed hoarsely, blinking against the junk in his eyes and finally wiping it away with his own shaking hand.

The tiny tendrils of black in his eyes disappeared entirely when he blinked again, leaving only a familiar and greatly missed clear blue. They flickered from Sandy floating above him to Bunny's face and then back to Sandy again. Jack's breathing was labored and heavy and he stared without seeming to really understand.

Then his body shuddered and he whimpered in pain, the smallest flicker of realization appearing on his face. "Sandy… g-get it _out_ ," Jack – _the real Jack_ – gasped. His back arched and his eyes squeezed shut once again.

When they flew open a moment later, they were completely black, and not even the whites of his eyes were visible. Jack Frost snarled angrily, spit flying from his mouth as he renewed his efforts to break free, screaming and cussing at them violently and with such fervency that it would have made a sailor squirm.

The light in Sandy's eyes blazed with fire and he instantly shot forward, once again placing his hands on Jack's face although this time, the contact made Jack seize instantly, as if he'd gone into shock. Sandy gestured for Bunny to back off and he hesitated for a moment before releasing the pressure he'd been putting on the winter spirit and scrambling backwards until he was several feet away. Golden light instantly began to emit from his fellow guardians body, almost too bright to even look at, powerful and warm. It flooded into Jack's body and surrounded them both, growing brighter and stronger until Bunny was forced to look away….

* * *

It felt like the world was on fire.

Everything burned and Sandy was the force that controlled it all.

The remaining black magic inside of Jack Frost was like nothing he'd ever encountered before and it fought against his presence, hating him and cursing him and fighting to stay inside of its host like a savage animal fighting for its very existence.

What he had already expelled had been relatively easy to find and weak in comparison to what he was now facing – whatever he had been able to find before, he had immediately grabbed it and _shoved_ it out without too much resistance.

But this magic was different… it felt _fused_ to Jack somehow and he was forced to untangle it, picking apart everything that made Jack who he was, separating the light from the dark, and then putting all of it back again. It was dangerous, tedious work because Pitch had been careful to intertwine real feelings and emotions into the ones he'd created and manipulated himself, making what was real and what was fake nearly impossible to determine. It was a magic that was meant to be permanent and the longer he worked, the more Sandy realized that what he'd gotten rid of before wasn't necessarily weak but simply unfinished.

But like Pitch Black, Sanderson Mansnoozie was ancient and over the centuries he had perfected his center as a guardian and when he chose to use it in its entirety, he could sense all the desires, intentions, dreams, and even to some extent, the pure feelings of those around him. And he knew the differences between Jack Frost and Pitch.

It was both to his surprise and relief that after working for several grueling minutes, that Sandy started to see flashes of the winter spirits true self emerging as more and more of the dark power left him. The relief didn't last very long though - Jack was in excruciating pain, the agony of being meticulously picked apart driving him to the brink of madness in his moments of lucidity. Fear rather than hatred quickly became the dominant force inside him as the guardian of fun struggled desperately to understand what was happening to him. Sandy could feel his emotions flickering rapidly between individual forces, both painful and confusing to the winter spirit and he recognized the heart wrenching moment when Jack was unable to determine _who_ he was.

At that same moment, Sandy split another strand and it was then that Jack seemed to realize that he was not alone in his mind. Nearly finished, Sandy felt more then realized that _Jack_ was beginning to force him out, terrified of his presence and unable to bare anymore torment.

 _Wait!_ Sandy shouted, startled as his power began to slip and recede. He couldn't stay if the real Jack Frost didn't want him there and so he scrambled, reaching for the very last vestiges of black magic and grabbing it desperately. _I'm almost finished, Jack!_

 _Out!_ The winter spirit begged, not recognizing him and Sandy furiously tried to pry the last bits apart. _Get out, get out now!_

He felt it loosening just as he was pushed backwards again and Sandy tried desperately to hold on. _Please let me finish-_

 _GET OUT!_ Jack demanded, shouting. _NOW!_

And everything went dark as a powerful force slammed into him and forced him out.

* * *

The first thing Bunny noticed was that the world felt calm again.

The second thing he noticed was that he was in a lot of pain.

Bunny opened his eyes, groaning. He felt like he'd been hit by a train and his arm was on fire underneath him, a sharp constant pain that made him want to throw up. After several stunned seconds, he took a few deep breathes and then as carefully as he could, Bunny rolled over to his side, pulled his damaged arm out from under him and held it close to his chest.

He sat back heavily in the snow and took a few moments to just breathe through the dizzying pain that action alone caused.

 _What the hell happened…?_ He wondered absently. _Sandy… where was Sandy… and Jack!_

His green eyes shot open, instantly searching for the spot where he'd last seen his fellow guardians before the world had exploded with power and thrown him violently backwards.

Sandy, his gold color a bright contrast to the white snow was the first thing he saw and he pulled himself to his feet and hurried to the older guardian's side. The dream giver it seemed had also been thrown backwards and he was leaning heavily against the side of a building, barely hovering off the ground and breathing laboriously. His natural light had faded to almost nonexistent and he looked utterly exhausted.

"Sandy?" Bunny asked, frightened. "You alright, mate?"

The older guardian nodded his head slowly, keeping his eyes closed. A tiny clock appeared briefly over his head, as well as several _Z's_. They faded quickly and Sandy took long moment to recover from the effort.

"What happened to Jack?" He asked quickly. "Did it work? Where is he?"

Sandy opened his eyes and they were filled with sorrow, so much that Bunny felt his heart drop into his stomach. Relief flooded him instantly though, when after a moment's hesitation, Sandy nodded once and raised his arm to point past him.

Bunny turned back and his eyes were drawn instantly to the center of the street, to that crater of snow that Sandy had made… the endless stretch of white made it easy to overlook unless it was exactly what one was looking for. He swallowed and walked towards it slowly, an uneasy feeling of nervousness building in his stomach at the trail of upturned snow and blood leading up to it. Gold and black sand was sprinkled around the circle the closer that he got, glittering innocently and Bunny craned his neck to try see over the edge.

A hoarse cough stopped him dead in his tracks though and despite Sandy's assurances, Bunny felt his heart skip a beat. How strange it was, that this once seemingly insignificant child could have so much power in him and to know that _if_ their efforts had truly been for nothing….

He shook himself. There was no point in dwelling on possibilities. Mustering up all of his courage and hoping beyond hope, Bunny took the last step forward and peered into the hole.

All he saw was black. It took him a long moment to realize that he was staring at Jack's stolen suit and another few seconds to pick out Jack's actual form against the snow – and even then it was mostly because the kid started moving first.

With painstaking slowness, Jack pushed himself up onto all fours and retched down at the ground with such force that Bunny was sure he'd somehow mange to vomit up all of his organs. But he didn't and instead the winter spirit just coughed, gasping desperately for air for nearly a minute, the sound of it echoing through the quiet, empty streets. As the coughing began to stop, Jack raised a shaking hand and rubbed at his eyes, breathing heavily. Bunny waited for him to rise to his feet but when Jack shakily tried to push himself up, his elbows buckled underneath him and he collapsed onto his forearms. A violent tremble ran through his body and he spit weakly at the snow.

"Jack?" Bunny called softly. He hastily took a few steps backwards when Jack's head immediately snapped up, a ruthless expression on his face as the wind literally _screamed_ at Bunny, rushing at him with enough force to almost knock him over again

"Hey, hey!" Bunny grunted, trying hard not to slip. "It's alright, it's Bunny, mate!"

Bunny wasn't sure whether or not he was actually heard above the roaring wind. But Jack coughed again, weakly shook his head, and then met Bunny's eyes.

They were blue.

The wind stopped. Instantly. Gone as though it had never existed in the first place.

The winter spirit blinked a few times and then whispered, "Oh." He slipped to his forearms again, staring at the icy ground and shuddering.

It took Bunny a moment to realize that he was horrified. Neither of them spoke. The dead silence stretched for an age it seemed, everything frozen perfectly in place.

Then Jack's face twisted and his whole body began to shake lightly as he staggered to his feet and out of the hole, chest heaving. He swayed dangerously and Bunny thought he'd be hitting the ground for a third time before he planted his feet and somehow managed to steady himself. Jack looked utterly exhausted but at the same time very alert as he took in the sights around him. Jack turned around in stumbling circles, tripping over his feet in a show of clumsiness that Bunny had never seen from him before, as he just stared wide-eyed at _everything_ , breathing raggedly and looking increasingly sick to his stomach as a horrifying expression of realization spread across his youthful face.

"No… no, no _no_." Jack choked out, whipping his blue eyes down to stare at his shaking hands as though he'd never seen them before. "What did I do… what have I done, I, I…."

"Jack," Bunny repeated quietly, approaching him carefully. Jack whirled around, stumbling backwards away from him even as he did so. Bunny stopped moving, holding up his paws peacefully. The winter spirit stared at him, confused, as though he didn't quite understand why he was there.

"Bunny… w-what are you…" He trailed off, eyes flickering over him, before widening suddenly. Jack's mouth fell open in shock and he took a few more steps backwards, pointing at him. "Did... did I do _that_?"

Bunny followed his gaze to the frozen blood that stained his chest and seeped freely from his mangled arm. He covered the wound swiftly with his paw. "It's not as bad as it looks – you weren't yourself, mate." Bunny tried to assure quickly.

"But… I… oh god," Jack breathed, covering his mouth in horror. "I… I _remember_ … Pitch and… and I hurt North and… and the fairies…." The winter spirit paled to an alarming extent, looking close to passing out.

"Jack!" Bunny demanded, approaching his friend once again. "It'll be okay – it's going to be okay, we're going to be okay and this _isn't_ your fault!"

Jack ignored him completely. Tears flooded crystal blue eyes and they spilled over on to the younger guardians face as he stared again with renewed revulsion and dismay at the city he'd so mercilessly tried to destroy.

"I _laughed_." Jack whispered, horrified. "I – I _murdered_ those people and I laughed." He sank to his knees, hands tangling themselves in his hair.

"Jack-"

"What have I done," He sobbed helplessly. "Oh god, what have I done, how could I-"

"It wasn't your fault, Jack." Bunny interrupted fiercely, dropping beside him and grabbing his shoulders. "This is _not_ your fault!" He repeated desperately, shaking his fellow guardian a little.

Jack pushed him away. "How can you say that?" He cried, gesturing wildly to everything. "Look at this! I did this! _I_ did this!"

"It wasn't you." He insisted. "This wasn't you! Pitch is responsible for this, you hear me? This is all on _him_ – you didn't know what you were doing!"

"But I did know! I did know what I was doing," Jack sobbed again. "I, I remember _everything_ that I… that I… _oh god_ –" He wailed, leaning over on his hands and knees, tears streaming down his face. He took a shuddering breath and _screamed_.

Screamed and screamed and it was heart wrenching and painful to listen to. And as much as he desperately wanted to, Bunny didn't know what to do or how to help. There were no words of comfort that he could think of to offer. So instead, he brought Jack towards him and pulled him into a tight, one armed hug and just let him cry. Sandy, looking a little better than before, drifted closer to both of them, and he watched, crestfallen, as the dream giver placed a small hesitant hand on Jack's quivering shoulder.

But he withdrew it again just as quickly when Jack jerked away, barely able to choke out a desperate plea for Sandy not to touch him.

Sandy hesitated for several seconds but then dipped his head and moved back just a little to give Jack some space. Together they both shared a look of dismay. It was over… they'd worked so hard, went through such lengths to get their friend back… but now that they had, neither of them knew what was going to happen next.

Nobody won. This wasn't a victory and there was no silver lining.

Tears slid down Bunny's cheeks as Jack continued to scream and wail in agony against him and he sniffed and looked up at the sky to quickly blink them away.

The snow was still falling.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N** IT. IS. FINISHED.

When I started writing this thing back in September, I never in a million years foresaw it being over 11,000 words. That is _amazing._ I've never written anything this long before.

So yeah. dark!Jack is pretty intense. I hope I portrayed him well.

Just for clarity's sake, Jack appears to Bunny at or near Zucotti Park along Broadway Street with Liberty Street being the closest cross street. Bunny then runs up Broadway with the intention of turning on Cortlandt St but misses the turn – Jack pushes him up the street about four blocks where he then swerves and enters the grove of trees surrounding Croton Fountain right in front of New York City Hall. The lower half of the fountain is completely buried in snow – Bunny hits the actual fountain part of it, pulls himself to his feet and then bolts left where the street opens up towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

(1) The murders Jack so callously says he wishes that he could have seen are in fact, real. During the Chicago World's Fair in 1893, Dr. H. H. Holmes, a serial killer, constructed a hotel for the guests to the fair, later to be known as the "murder castle" where it is theorized that he killed over 200 people. Feel free to check out the Wikipedia page.

(2) Blood freezes at -2 degrees. The temperatures that Jack has created are well below that – I'm thinking in the -60's somewhere. The lowest temperature ever recorded in Central Park was -15 degrees. The cold air essentially kept Bunny from bleeding out by basically cauterizing his wound, in a way. And if you remember, Bunny is not dead by prolonged exposure because North gave him something that would help him survive the cold, although he is not immune to feeling it.

Thank you for reading. I had a great time writing this thing and I hope that you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think! I am willing to beg for this one. XD

Merry Christmas and have a wonderful Happy New Year!

-DragonflyonBreak


	2. Chapter 2

Update: A short sort of sequel/prequel has been posted titled _Damned to Hell._

If you like dark!Jack and are okay with gruesome murders, I highly encourage you to check it out.

-DragonflyonBreak


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